


Kittens Are A Quartermaster's Best Friend

by lady_needless_litany



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Q Has a Cat, Snarky Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:04:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: 007 returns from a mission with a...gift for Q.





	Kittens Are A Quartermaster's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hi- this is my first fic (ever!), so I'd appreciate it if you bear that in mind. I'm still sceptical about this piece. Also, not betaed. Constructive criticism definitely welcomed, though. Enjoy!

“Move.”

Cleopatra was large, grey, and ridiculously fluffy. Vocal, too. She miaowed innocently at his command.

“Really.” he said, exasperated. “You can't just lounge all over my desk whenever you feel like it.”

She refused to budge,

Ignoring the hidden smiles and stifled laughs of his coworkers, Q sighed and scooped the cat into his arms. A dozen steps took him to R’s desk, upon which he unceremoniously dumped the cat.

R looked up. The cat, heedless of the assorted detritus spread over the surface, stepped primly over the desk and onto R’s lap.

“What?” she near cooed. “What did Q do to you this time?”

Cleopatra issued a sound describable only as ‘pitiful’. At R’s resulting ‘aww’, she glared smugly at Q.

“Was he mean to you? He's like that sometimes.”

Q spluttered indignantly. “I–it’s–it’s her fault. She thought that it was a good idea to sit on my keyboard. Do you know how many keys she managed to press?”

Even to his own ears, he sounded pathetic, offering excuses against a feline. R told him as much (anyway, who did he think he was to quibble with Q-Branch’s unofficial mascot?), and he returned to his desk with his (metaphorical) tail between his legs.

“You know,” R called to him. “I was thinking of getting Cleo a companion. So she's not lonely!”

Still trying to salvage the remnants of his dignity, Q chose not to hear that.

⁂

Bond visited Q-Branch later that day, in order to return some equipment from a mission to Latvia. Equipment that: “miraculously, 007, it's all intact. I must say, I think this is a first.”

“There's a first time for everything.”

“Well, I shan't get my hopes up that this will be a regular occurrence.”

“Best not to.”

He was on his way out again, taking several strides towards the door before turning back abruptly, retracing his footsteps to Q’s desk. Q hadn't noticed that Bond was carrying a small bag, until he reached inside it as if confirming that something was still there.

“Ah. I almost forgot. I brought you something.”

Q’s face formed a sceptical frown. Until, suddenly, a small bundle of black fur was deposited into his lap.

For a long moment, Q and the bundle regarded each other in silence, before Q spoke again.

“Are you trying to bribe me, 007?” he huffed.

“Of course not! Why would I ever do that?” the agent replied in a mock-sincere tone.

Quelling a near-irresistible urge to stroke the thing, Q instead asked: “Where did you find it? It's tiny.” Then, a moment later: “Tell me you didn't steal it from some mafia boss or something equally preposterous.”

Bond released a short bark of laughter. “The hotel I stayed at in Riga had a cat that had just given birth. This one was the runt of the litter, so the concierge was threatening to drown it.”

“So...you thought you'd fly it back to England. Without any documentation? Are you aware that that's not even legal?”

007 shrugged. “It's not a long flight. He seemed to enjoy Business Class.”

“But…”

“I paid the aircrew to turn a blind eye. And I don't bother with airports anymore, when possible.”

“Still, it's...antisocial.”

“You’re welcome. That's your Christmas and birthday present combined for this year.”

Leaving kitten and quartermaster to stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, Bond made his exit silently.

Behind him, Q was at a slight loss— understandably, the younger man told himself. It’s not every day that a coworker (if Bond could be called that) turned up with a kitten. “Well, what am I going to do with you?” he asked of the bundle.

The cat seemed most unimpressed. He mewled petulantly, curled up, and went to sleep.

⁂

“One cat, Q, that was one thing. Two, on the other hand…” Moneypenny shook her head. “That has to be a safety hazard.”

“They're both chipped.” Q said defensively. “If either of them leaves this room, an alarm goes off. Anyway, they’ve never tried to go far.”

Moneypenny hummed noncommittally.

“Besides, blame Bond for the second one, not me.”

“Don't worry, I try and blame Bond for everything these days. It's usually not that far off the mark.”

They exchanged a few more sentences before Eve’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She rolled her eyes as she read the notifications lighting up the screen.

“Duty calls once more. I'll see you later.” She dislodged herself from her perch on Q’s desk, nodded at R, waved at some minion on the other side of the room; with no particular speed or haste, she made her way to the door.

“Eve?” Q called at her receding profile. “Don't tell M. About the cats. Please. He’ll probably end up with apoplexy and complain that it contravenes some Health and Safety regulation.”

“Don't worry,” Eve replied over her shoulder, grinning. “He already knows!”

⁂

“So what's it called?”

Absorbed in tinkering with the gadget on the table in front of him, Q didn't turn around at the voice, not bothering to be surprised or startled.

“ _He_ is called Hermes.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Hermes is the Greek god of travellers and thieves and conducts the souls of the dead to Hades. Take from that what you will.”

Bond watched as the creature in question scampered across the room. “Did the thing do anything to warrant such disdain?”

“No. We called him Hermes because he’s damned fast and gets in everyone’s way.”

“We?”

Q shrugged. “He’s like Cleo. He may come home with me, but in reality he belongs to Q-Branch.”

“I see.”

Q tried, and failed, to return to his work for several minutes before succumbing to Bond’s inescapable aura. His tools clattered to his desk loudly. “Why are you here, 007?”

Bond met his eyes levelly. “Entertainment.”

“Well, 007, I’ll have you know that I’m extremely busy, and neither I nor my department is here for your _entertainment_.”

Q winced as one of his minions knocked over a stack of paperwork ( _this_ , Q thought, _is why we’re going paperless_ ) in his attempt to stop Hermes chewing one of the wires on his desk. Though silent, he could feel both the man’s embarrassed apologies and Bond’s unashamed amusement.

__

Bond’s stare turned the mortified minion an unnatural shade of red. “If you say so.”

__


End file.
